


Sparked

by moonbaby11 (ushnuu)



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Care of Magical Creatures, Childhood, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 14:32:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7718524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ushnuu/pseuds/moonbaby11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie Weasley's first encounter with a dragon sparks an interest for life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparked

Charlie Weasley glances anxiously around the class. He’d taken it on a whim - partially because he’s always liked the outdoors and partially because his best friend, Nymphadora Tonks, just so happened to be taking it as well - and now he is beginning to doubt his decision. He knows nothing about magical creatures. He’s never really cared to learn about them, either. He’s a strong potions student and he’s been thinking about doing something with that skill after Hogwarts, but none of the third year electives have anything to do with potions.   
  


No, it had really all come down to a process of elimination. Professor Trelawney was batty - everybody said so, he’d never been good with numbers so Artihmancy was out, and Ancient Runes just sounded _boring_. That had left him with Care of Magical Creatures as his final elective for his third year at Hogwarts.  

Charlie shoves his hands deep into his pockets, glancing over at Tonks. A grin is planted firmly on her pudgy face, her hair curly and blonde today. He finds a little bit of encouragement in the fact that he has friends in this class, and is only encouraged further when Adam Romero, a Ravenclaw and a close acquaintance of theirs, approaches.   

“So?” Adam asks, a huge smile on his face. “Are you guys ready?”  

“Am I ever!” Tonks says, a wild look in her eyes. They both seem so sure of themselves and Charlie just wants to run away.  

Bill never took Care of Magical Creatures. He’d taken Muggle Studies - both of them had, actually, out of fear that their father might disown them if they didn’t - and Ancient Runes. Charlie doesn't know anyone that had taken this class and he isn't sure what to expect.  

What if the creatures don't react well to him? What if he fails because he doesn't know how to care for them? The Weasleys have never really had any pets - there are too many kids running around for pets to really be a wise decision, especially with Charlie’s younger twin brothers - so he doesn't have any experience. There is Scabbers, of course, but Charlie doesn't think of him very much as a pet. The rat is lazy beyond belief, never doing anything exciting and never requiring very much care at all. He's just glad the thing was Percy’s and not his.  

“Charlie?” Adam asks, casting his brown eyes in the redhead’s direction. 

“Uh huh,” Charlie says, nodding his head slowly. “Yeah, I’m excited too.” Adam just smiles in response and Charlie is thankful that he can’t see through his lie. He’s shaking in his boots.  

“Where do you think Kettleburn is?” Adam asks, gazing around the small gathering of students.  

“Probably fussing with his fake leg,” Tonks says with a shrug. Adam’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion. “Didn’t you hear?” she asks, a look of excitement present on her face. “He lost his leg this summer!”  

Charlie pales. “How?” he asks.  

“Dunno,” Tonks says with a shrug, “But my mum told me. She heard about it.” 

“So Kettleburn’s missing an arm and a leg?” Adam says, eyes wide in awe. “ _Wicked_.”

Charlie says nothing. They certainly aren’t helping to calm his nerves. He seems to be the only one there who’s nervous and it’s an odd sensation. Charlie is a Gryffindor - his home away from home is the house of the brave - and yet he can’t stop thinking about what a mistake this probably is. He tries to brush it off. Only two years of this class and then he can drop it after OWLs so that he can pursue Potions further. Professor Snape may not be the kindest of teachers, but Charlie feels like he has a real knack for the subject. He’s sure that’s where his future lies. 

“So, what d’you think we’ll be doing today?” Tonks asks, tugging on one of her blonde curls.  

“Probably just reading from the textbook,” Adam says with a shrug. “It has a lot about safety in there.”  

“I don’t mind,” Charlie pipes up. “I don’t want to go losing a leg like Kettleburn.” 

“What’s that about my leg?” Charlie turns, wide eyed, at the voice. Professor Kettleburn is walking towards the group, a limp apparent in his stride. Must be the left leg. “Who said that?” The students all take steps back, clearly signalling out Charlie. “Bill Weasley, eh?” 

“No. It’s Charlie, sir.”  

“Gah. All you Weasleys look the same to me.”  

“Sorry?” he responds, which earns a chuckle from the class. Kettleburn narrows his eyes slightly but keeps hobbling to the front of the crowd. Charlie glances to Tonks with a look of fear. She merely shrugs her shoulders. He turns next to Adam who isn’t looking in his direction at all. His brown eyes are trained on Kettleburn and the grin on his face shows that he’s probably enjoying this more than he should be.  

“’lright class. Welcome to your first ever Care of Magical Creatures lesson. I can tell ya right now that magical creatures are not something to be taken lightly.”  

A hand in the front of the crowd shoots up. “Professor Kettleburn, sir,” Charlie can hear a small, female voice saying, “Are any of us going to get injured in this course?”  

With a mischievous glint in his eye, the silver haired professor simply replies, “Perhaps.” A few gulps of fear can be heard around the class and Charlie resists the urge to do the same. “Now, I see all of you bought the correct reading material for this class. Great.” There’s a pause. “Toss ‘em.” 

“But sir-”  

“I believe in learning through experience, not through reading dull books on theories,” Kettleburn continues, cutting off the blond haired boy who had spoken up to question his methods. “Those books will be of no use to you in this class.” Charlie stares down at the textbook in his hands. His Mum will kill him. Money is already tight in their family, what with seven children, and she won’t be pleased to know that she’d wasted perfectly good sickles on a book that will never be used. “’lright.” Professor Kettleburn claps his hands together. “Now I just have two things to say. One - pay attention. Not just for learning, but if you don’t pay attention around magical creatures that could be the end of you.” Charlie watches as he locks eyes with the girl that had asked about injuries, most likely deliberately trying to frighten her. “And two - try not to die.” 

This time Charlie can’t help the noise of fear that falls from his lips. Adam turns to look at him. “You alright, mate?” he asks. Charlie just nods, glancing sideways at Tonks. Her brave exterior seems to have dropped as well and he can see that her bottom lip is trembling ever so slightly. It’s reassuring to see his friend like this, but he also wishes that neither of them had anything to fear. Right now Kettleburn seems battier than he’s ever heard Professor Trelawney is. Maybe that’s what happens to you when you lose too many limbs.  

“With that out of the way, let’s set to work on your first creature.” 

“Excuse me sir.”  

Kettleburn ignores the outburst of one of the students, instead resolving to walk towards one of the trees by the clearing. He grabs hold of something and Charlie, at the back of the group, cranes his neck to see what the professor has. Slowly but surely, Kettleburn begins to pull out a crate. Whispers circulate the group as students try to guess what is being kept inside.

“Probably a fire crab,” Adam says, standing on his toes to see better over the heads of the crowd. “I read the first three chapters of the book and it’s in there. It would fit in the crate, too.” 

Charlie once again feels fully unprepared. He hadn’t read the book before class began and he knows nothing. He’s heard mentions of fire crabs a few times, but he doesn’t know enough to know what to expect when Kettleburn pries the lid off of the crate.  

“Inside this crate is your first magical creature,” Kettleburn says, his shortness of breath clear in his voice. “Anyone care to wager a guess at what it is?” Adam shoots his hand into the air. “Yeah, in the back. The scrawny kid.”

Adam’s smile drops for a moment but he quickly regains his composure. “A fire crab,” he says.  

“Wrong!” Kettleburn points directly at Adam before shaking his head and turning to the remaining students. “Any other guesses?”  

“A mermaid?” the girl in the front guesses. 

Kettleburn turns round on her. “Have you ever read a book?” he asks, shaking his head. “Any other guesses. _Logical_ guesses only, please.” His question is met with silence. “’lright.” He pats the lid of the crate lightly. “This here is a Common Welsh Green.” 

His words are met with an uproar of voices. The muggleborn kids are asking what that means and the other kids are trying to figure out how on earth Professor Kettleburn got his hands on a _dragon_.

Finally, amidst the commotion, Charlie raises his hand. “Excuse me, sir. Isn’t it illegal to own a dragon?”  

He instantly regrets his words as Kettleburn turns round on him this time. “Think so, eh?” he asks. “’lright Bill, come on up here. You’ll be the one to handle the dragon.”  

Charlie’s already pale face turns as white as a sheet. “No thank you, sir,” he splutters out. 

“Come on, Bill! Up here!” Kettleburn gestures for the redhead to join him at the front of the class. He glances to Tonks who gives him an encouraging smile. He feels as though he’s been hit with a Jelly-Legs Jinx, but somehow Charlie manages to wade through the group of students to join Professor Kettleburn at the front. “’lright, it’s simple enough. Just try not to get burned.” 

Charlie gulps but nods his head. He watches as Professor Kettleburn sets to work prying the lid off of his crate, his fake arm moving at an odd enough angle that Charlie can pick it out. It’s his right arm. After a few more moments of struggling, the lid comes free with a resounding pop. “Take a look inside, Bill. See what yer up against.” 

Charlie’s been too afraid to correct the professor and is starting to think he’ll be stuck with his older brother’s name for the next two years of this class. Slowly he takes a step forward, pausing to breathe. He’s seen pictures of dragons before, sure, but that’s far from the same thing as seeing one up close and personal. He takes another step, and then another, and the next thing he knows he’s reached the crate. Sucking in one more deep breath, Charlie gazes down at the Common Welsh Green.  

It’s a small thing, about the size of a kitten, with deep green scales running down it’s spine. It’s eyes are closed and Charlie swears the thing is sleeping. From this distance it doesn’t look so bad, but he’s not sure what more Kettleburn is expecting from him.  

“’lright, ‘lright, stand back,” the professor says, limping forward. “I’m going to wake him and then I’ll let you hold him.” 

“Hold him?” Charlie asks, his blue eyes widening larger than what he ever thought was possible. “Shouldn’t I have gloves or something?”  

“You’ll be fine,” Kettleburn says, and Charlie feels his heart drop as he watches the professor slip on his own pair of handling gloves. “I’ve just got to wake him up, see?” 

Charlie watches with baited breath as Kettleburn reaches into the crate. There is silence - it seems as if the whole class has stopped breathing - and then a strangely melodic roar cuts through the air. It’s soft, clearly coming from a young dragon rather than a fully grown one, but it is still clear what is making that noise. He can see a few students cowering in the front but, somehow, the roar of the Common Welsh Green has put Charlie at ease. The young dragon roars again and Charlie feels as though he can finally breathe.  

“’lright, here we go.” Kettleburn is rising from the crate. First his silver head appears, than his false arm and then, finally, the Common Welsh Green. The dragon is resting in the professor’s cupped hands, it’s large, yellow eyes peering up at Charlie. It yawns and then bears it’s teeth and snaps it’s jaw, immediately calling to the boy’s mind the image of a snapping turtle. His calmness has dissipated - he’s once again terrified. He wants to run back into the crowd and cower behind one of the taller students, but he knows he has to go through with it. “This is a Common Welsh Green.” Kettleburn holds it up for the whole class to see. “A baby. Only a few months, at best. It’s the calmest of all the dragons, especially at such a young age, and we’re going to demonstrate that today.” He glances down at Charlie. “Good luck, boy,” he says softly so that only the redhead can hear him. 

Charlie doesn’t gulp. He doesn’t even flinch. He’s frozen in his place, hands cupped and awaiting the dragon. The Common Welsh Green snaps a few more times at Kettleburn and for a moment Charlie fears that the man will lose another limb, particularly his index finger. The boy’s blue eyes train on Kettleburn as he slowly lowers the small dragon into Charlie’s waiting hands. The first thing he feels against his skin are the cool scales. He wants to pull back, but instead he sucks in a breath and lets the dragon rest in his palms. It pads lightly across his hands, not having much place to go, and Charlie is surprised by the fact that it doesn’t hurt. He’d expected the claws to dig into the fleshy part of his palms and draw blood, but instead the small feet just seem to lightly dance across his skin. The dragon does a full circle before settling down in Charlie’s hands.  

“Professor,” the girl from before says, raising a hand into the air. “Is that good?” 

“The dragon is very relaxed,” Kettleburn explains, glancing down. “They don’t normally take this well to people. Most Common Welsh Green try and avoid them as much as possible.”  

“So I’m doing good?” Charlie asks, looking up from the dragon for the first time since it had been laid in his hands so that he can catch Kettleburn’s eye.  

The professor merely nods his head. Charlie casts his gaze downwards once more. The dragon is peering curiously up at him. He wants to reach out and pet it, run his hand down its snout, feeling the cool scales slide underneath his touch, but he can’t move either of his hands at the moment. Instead he’ll have to settle for the feeling of the feet and underbelly against his palms, a feeling he’s sure he won’t soon forget. The dragon lets out a small cough-like sound and emits the smallest trail of smoke Charlie has ever seen. 

“Shhh,” he whispers, looking down at the creature. “Shhh.” The dragon blinks up at him and coughs once more, this time a few small sparks jumping from his mouth. They land at the edge of Charlie’s robes, singeing them. His Mum won’t be pleased about that, and neither will whichever of his brothers gets these robes as a hand-me-down when he outgrows them.  

“You’re a right natural at this,” Kettleburn says. The class has fallen into complete silence, the whole crowd staring in awe at the redhead and the dragon. “Good job, Charlie.”  

He’s so engrossed with the dragon that he doesn’t even realize Kettleburn has called him by the proper name.  

* * *

  
   


Charlie Weasley is sat at a desk inside the break tent, penning a letter to Tonks. She’s just started her Auror training at the Ministry and he’s been in Romania for the past four months. They’ve promised to keep in touch with each other and, thus far, have been keeping true to their word. He’s been writing to all of his Hogwarts friends, actually, but Tonks is the one he’s been in contact with the most. She was his closest friend, after all.  

“Oi, Weasley. You’ve got a visitor.“ A voice at the flap of the tent causes him to look up from his letter.  

“Thanks, Jane,” he says, turning back to his letter and finishing the sentence he’d been interrupted on. He sets his quill down. Who could be visiting him? His mother has already voiced her fears about him working in such close proximity to dragons so he doubts it could be his parents. All of his brothers are at school, save for Bill who’s doing work for Gringotts, and Ginny is too young to travel all the way out to Romania by herself.  

He pushes the flap of the tent out of his way and is met with blinding sunlight. He blinks, trying to let his eyes readjust, before he notices a familiar silver head. “Professor Kettleburn,” he says, surprise clear in his voice.  

“Charlie.” The man grins, limping across the small distance that separates them before pulling the redhead into a hug and clapping him on the back.  

“What are you doing here?” He peers with a look of confusion at his past professor and, in his final year at Hogwarts, his mentor. 

“First Hogsmeade weekend of the year,” Kettleburn explains. “Had the day off, so I figured I’d apparate over to Romania to see how things are going. ‘lright here, then?”  

“Of course,” Charlie says, casting his eyes out at the dragon sanctuary. This is his home now. The dragons may be dangerous - the scratches on his arm can attest to that - but he feels at peace here. 

“Always was good with them dragons,” Kettleburn mutters, shaking his head. “My day’s a right bore without you, hope you know that.”  

Charlie grins. “I do now.”  

 Kettleburn sighs. “Always knew you would end up here one day. Even before you knew it.”  

“When did you know?” Charlie asks, turning to gaze upon the professor. He’d contemplated a professional career in Quidditch all the way up to the end of his sixth year at Hogwarts. It wasn’t until the summer before seventh that he really committed himself to becoming a dragon trainer. 

“Since that first day,” Kettleburn admits. “When that Common Welsh Green reacted so well to you. It was so calm and that was when I knew. You’d be doing yourself a disservice if you didn’t work with dragons.”  

“Thank you.” He’s not sure what else to say. He can’t find words strong enough to show Kettleburn his gratitude for helping him get where he is, so he simply settles for thanking him.  

“’lright, don’t start getting sappy on me or anything,” Kettleburn says, clapping his former student on the back once more.  

Charlie grins. “I won’t,” he promises.  

This is Charlie’s home now. He’s sure he’ll be here for many years to come, one with the dragons, training them and developing his knowledge on the creatures. He feels comfortable here, like this was where he was meant to be his whole life. They both stand quietly, staring out at the dragon sanctuary.  

And, in the distance, a Common Welsh Green roars.  


End file.
